


Shawn Mendes short one shot

by Lilypop224



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 15:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilypop224/pseuds/Lilypop224





	Shawn Mendes short one shot

You flopped down on the couch and picked up a magazine. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to hang out backstage during one of Shawn’s concerts. It had been exciting at first, but now it was more boring than anything. You loved his voice. His fans….maybe not so much. They were devoted, for sure, but all the screaming - it wasn’t really your scene. You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, a security guard was shaking your shoulder.

You blinked twice. “Sorry. Where’s Shawn?”

As if on cue, your boyfriend slumped into the room. “Anya?” He loved performing, but he was always dead tired after a concert.

You stood and stretched. “Hey, babe.”

He came over to you and leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. “Mm tired.”

You smiled ruefully and rubbed his back. “Okay. Let’s get back to the hotel. Paul got us a car.”

The drive was quiet. Shawn mostly watched the trees go by, and you mostly watched Shawn’s eyes. They were beautiful, and they gave his heart away. Even though you’d only been dating a couple months, you could tell something was wrong. But you couldn’t tell if he wanted you to pry or if he wanted his space.

Maybe it was worth a try. “Shawn, is something-” The car lurched to a stop and the driver gave a triumphant sigh. You let out a sigh, too, and unbuckled your seatbelt. Shawn was already at the hotel doors by the time you’d thanked the driver, and your brow furrowed. But he waited for you to catch up, and opened the door for you. He held your hand on the way up to your shared room, and closed it gently behind him. He still hadn’t said a word, but now that you were alone, he looked at you. You waited with baited breath.

“Anya,” he began slowly, and gave you a small smile. “You don’t deserve me.” Your eyebrows lifted, and you fumbled for a response, but he rushed on. “You deserve someone much better.” You closed your mouth, then opened it again, but he had other ideas. “I think we could be great together. Amazing, really. You’re - I mean, you’re smart, and funny. You’re not afraid to take up space or have an opinion, but you’re respectful. I love all those things about you. And I think you should have someone who can truly appreciate you.” He had been spooning ice into a cup as he was talking, and now he filled it with water and downed it. “I’m always busy. I can’t be that guy for you, Anya, and I think you should have - you know, that guy.”

You studied him. “What guy, Shawn? You’re babbling.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to look at you. “You know. That guy who can take you out.”

“We go out.”

“Not without paparazzi trailing us! Not without pictures of you, and me, on front pages of magazines and weird websites. You’ve had to delete your Tumblr, and your Twitter, and your Facebook, even.”

“Tumblr was a blow, I’ll admit.”

“And Pinterest,” he mumbled into another piece of ice, and it was all you could do not to laugh. Just a little bit.

“You can’t be serious, Shawn. I’m okay with this life. I’m not used to it, not yet, but I’m getting the hang of it. I didn’t use Facebook that much anyway, and now I don’t waste my time scrolling my life away on Pinterest.”

He sat on your bed and looked down at his hands. “Anya, I’ve arranged for your trip home.”

The smile slipped from your face like a piece of wet clay down a window. “Excuse me?”

He studied his fingernail closely. “I think we should take a break.”

You reeled for a moment and let out a deep breath. How do you - how does someone respond to this? What should you - what do you do next? Your next words surprised you as much as they surprised him. “That,” you heard yourself say slowly, “is the most moronically, nonsensical, idiotic thing I’ve ever heard you say. And I’ve seen you drunk.” He glanced up, amused, but words kept tumbling out of your mouth. “I mean, honestly. You don’t think I deserve this? I mean, first of all, you don’t know my life story, I might have killed a man.”

“What?”

“Well, maybe an unintentionally inattentive boyfriend is my - is the karma I deserve.” You squinted. “Never mind. The point IS, Mendes-”

“Why are you calling me Mendes?”

You didn’t really know. “Because I’m fired up. What, you think you know what I want? You think I can’t decide what’s best for me? I’m taking a gap year anyway, so it’s not like I’m leaving my life behind for you, which I wouldn’t have done anyway, so just - shut up, will you?” You paused for a breath and stared at the lamp to avoid his entertained smirk, and when you opened your mouth because why not continue this little rant, you had nothing more to say. Except - “I love you.”

The smirk vanished.

The air grew still, but restless, and you waited.

Shawn stood, and your eyes remained decidedly fixed on that lamp. _What a pretty green color_ , you thought. _Why are you thinking about the color of the lamp? You just told Shawn - you just told Shawn. What kind of idiot are you? He’s walking away. No, he’s walking back. Oh, he’s pacing. No, wait, he’s coming back again. Shut up_ \- he was standing in front of you now, but your eyes were stubborn, and refused to move from the pretty green color.

But he touched your cheek with his finger, just a soft touch, and your eyes were free again, and they traveled along the room to his. _What a beautiful brown_ , you thought absentmindedly, _and what a lovely pink_ , when you got to his lips.

“I think I love you, too,” you heard him say, and you blinked.

“We’re not taking a break,” you said.

“I know,” he whispered.


End file.
